


Like Drowning

by witchspellbook



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Character Study, Other, i hope the summary matches the fic, i wrote this when i was supposed to write for another thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchspellbook/pseuds/witchspellbook
Summary: The end has come and gone and Aziraphale readies himself for another change.changed the rating, warning and categories cuz they were wrong.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Like Drowning

The first time he feels the first tendril of it it’s like a lose thread of a spider web landing on him, light and barely there but stronger that given credit for. Wrapping around him lose enough to allow him to walk away from it, to allow him to forget about it, even if it never leaves him.

He is vaguely aware of it, the same way he is vaguely aware of sun heating his skin. The next times he feel it, silk thread and spun wool, heavier and heavier each new time, surrounding him in a soft and fluffy web of feelings until he feels he can’t breathe, until they become the air he breathes and he is purposely oblivious because he know he doesn’t know how to live without them, he doesn't want to live without them.

Crowley love has tied him so tightly and safely he lives in it now, ever growing, ever changing, ever present. It scares him. The way he would give up everything to keep living on it. It should be suffocating but Crowley has never done much about it, he would press a little every century or so, testing the limits of that invisible barrier Aziraphale has put for him, playing footsies with the border for a minute and then going back to where is safe, to where Aziraphale allows him to be, maybe this time is staying enough time to watch the sunset outside the walls of Ur, maybe next time is trying tea in China, maybe the next one is coffee and sweet fruits in Medellín, maybe next time is getting roaringly drunk in Venice and spending the night ignoring their respective tasks.

Only once has Crowley pushed against that barrier and had tried to break it. _We can go off together, lots of real estate in space,_ he has to recognize thought, his anxiety fuelled demon, in a fit of panic trying to save their lives, Alpha Centauri, had he pushed again and he had said no. Broken both of their hearts.

When he focus to feel it now it feels like a favourite sweater, like a fussy blanket, like being dumped in a tank of warm water, it surrounds him, he feels every strand of it still, from that first spider silk tendril to the last rope that secures them together.

He wonders, if Crowley could be able to feel love like he is, to sense it from places and people and things, he wonders how his love would feel to him. He hopes it feels like drowning, the same way it feels drowning to him, paralyzing, he is much more selfish than the dear demon, he knows this, he covets and hungers and envies and he wants to drink Crowley in, consume him, eat him bit by bit until there is nothing left, until Crowley has become one with him. It should be wrong to love like this but is the only way he seems to know how to, to consume and consume and fill himself with the things he loves, to surround himself with them and taste them, slowly, steady, implacably. When the time comes, he knows this, when the time comes and there is nothing left to do but give in, he will love Crowley, he will have him, spoon feed him his love like honey wines, intoxicating to the point of poisonous, Crowley has been subtle in his way of loving him, even if after six thousand years subtlety has run off by the sum of so many favours so many selfless acts and longing gazes and whatever the demon does is painfully obvious now, Aziraphale, deep inside of himself, knows he is incapable of such subtlety. After avoiding the Armageddon, the time seems to have come rushing to him, and he readies himself to love Crowley like a monsoon, like a divine flood, ruthless and unavoidable, and hopes Crowley knows how to breath underwater.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> please let me know if it needs some other tag


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